


Memories

by thisisashittyusername



Category: El Nolibusterismo, Noli Me Tangere & Related Works - José Rizal
Genre: 13 years, 13 years of blaming the gov't?, M/M, UHM what am i doing, Yes yes, actually hindi man relationship, elias help, established buttfucking??, help me its like crisostomo is in my bones, i dont know, i felt the ibarra too hard, i mean seriously, i think simoun self harmed tho, idk - Freeform, if i was ibarra i would probably try killing myself, imagine the goddamn guilt on that, more of, nah i think youd blame yourself first, ouch wow, pls help, siguro 7 years nung 13 years niya self hate, tas yung 6 years directed na sa gov't, the simoun is too strong, uhm established relationship??, your boyfriends possessing me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 02:06:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3592248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisashittyusername/pseuds/thisisashittyusername
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simoun thinks back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Idk what even made me feel so bad. I was so happy a while ago.
> 
> ANYWAY. For best results, please read while listening to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-97sExTt5dI).

He lets the cool breeze fly past his face, his cheekbones, his hair…

 

Simoun peers into the river.

 

The river they once sailed…

He, with his star-crossed lover.

 

He ponders then:

What were they, _really?_

Were they really lovers?

Or substitutes to what they could never have?

 

A second rate answer to a question that deserved the best?

He watches leaves drop and float away.

 

Float away like he did, down the water.

Float away from his life _so easily_ …

 

He cannot imagine a time the cuts on his stomach weren’t there.

He put them there himself.

 

He cannot imagine a time he didn’t try to suffocate himself with a feathered pillow.

 

He could almost laugh when he damns himself for his life.

The life he’d stolen from…

 

He swallows.

 

From _him._

The same thought- the same mindset-

_That you would dare waste away a life that was never really yours?-_

He brings the pillow away from his face.

 

He wills himself to breathe

Despite the need to die with _him._

He couldn’t imagine a time when everything wasn’t so forced as it was

now.

 

He does imagine, however,

The way he smiled

And the way he’d try to hide it.

 

He imagines the way

The straw hat was on his head-

How it hugged his long hair.

 

He could almost _touch_

The strong hand

That gripped their oar

And sailed them to safety.

 

Every

Single

Time.

 

He imagines the way the man laughed-

Although limitedly-

Reservedly, just for him.

 

He imagines the way

The man would laugh most especially

_Into his skin_

When the darkness of the night

Would think them asleep.

 

He imagines most of all

The way the blood

Seemed to stretch

Along the watery surface

 

And how cold his tears felt.

 

How even colder the man’s hand felt

And how contrasting it was

 

To the heat of the fire.

 

Simoun feels as if he should jump in the river.

The guilt is too strong.

 

The guilt of his loss,

His awe,

And the passion that touched him even now.

 

He hates how,

Even after thirteen years,

The dead man is still alive

 

And the man who’s supposed to be alive

Is now dead.

 

His tears blind him.

 

-Though not to the vision he sees

Of them

Under the shining stars-

How they embraced in the safety of their boat, _their sanctum._

 

The tears spill down his cheeks.

_It always came with a price._


End file.
